


Promise at a Bargain Price

by tsukinofaerii



Category: Marvel 616
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-09-22
Updated: 2010-09-22
Packaged: 2017-10-12 02:39:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 735
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/119868
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tsukinofaerii/pseuds/tsukinofaerii
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve may not know who Iron Man is, but he's willing to wait on that. A kiss, on the other hand...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Promise at a Bargain Price

The mansion was quiet when Steve finally got home. It was nearly three in the morning, and everyone else had long since either gone to their own homes or gone to bed. Just in case, Steve didn't turn on any extra lights as he walked through the building. The leather of his uniform squeaked when he moved, but that was unavoidable. It was a wet night outside, and leather didn't wear well in the damp.

Bad weather or not, there were three different muggers in jail because he'd been out on the streets. Taken that way, it was far better than staying home and fighting nightmares about the War.

As it turned out, Steve wasn't the only one up late. A lamp was on in the kitchen, casing a cool blue glow over the breakfast table. Steve paused as he passed it.

Iron Man had taken over the table. One of his gauntlets was spread all over the surface, from simple screws that were easy to recognize to strange pieces of metal that looked like they belonged in a puzzle. The table wasn't placed anywhere close to an electrical outlet, but he had solved that problem by plugging the lamp into himself.

Without looking up from his work, Iron Man said, "You're home late."

"Muggers are easiest to find after midnight." Steve glanced down the hall, but stepped into the kitchen and took a seat. There was something more than a little surreal about watching Iron Man work on electronics in his armor. The hand that was bare of olive-skinned, and covered with nicks and calluses from his work—it was the only thing even remotely human about him. They were long-fingered and shapely, with nails that were obviously taken care of. Steve never considered hands a particularly attractive body part, but he'd learned to take what he could get. "Why aren't you fixing that in the workshop?"

"It's just a quick repair." Even with the faceplate down, Iron Man's tone gave the impression of someone's poking out his tongue as he worked. "Mr. Stark is working on a new set of armor. I don't want to disturb his work."

When it seemed obvious that Iron Man considered the conversation over with, Steve reached out and picked one of his hands up, turning it over to look at the calluses. His red gloves looked "You have nice hands."

"Cap..." Iron Man's fingers curled around his. "You know I can't. My identity..."

"I know." Steve frowned, and traced the lifeline on Iron Man's palm. Instead of being one smooth crease, it had a lot of breaks. He wondered what that meant. "I wouldn't tell anyway. You can trust me."

"It's not about trust. You don't even know what I look like. I could be hideous under this helmet."

"You've said that before. I don't care." They'd had the same exact conversation, more than once. Iron Man was adamant about keeping his identity secret. Attraction and friendship wasn't enough, he said. Steve begged to differ. "Kiss me."

Iron Man pulled his hand away. "We're not doing this."

"I'll close my eyes," Steve insisted. "Please. Just one kiss, and then I won't ask again until you tell me your name."

There was no way to tell, but the angle of Iron Man's helmet made it seem like he was staring at the table. Steve held his breath while he thought it over. Maybe it was pathetic, but he wanted just one kiss. It would hold him until Iron Man _did_ reveal himself.

The answer came with the _click_ of Iron Man's faceplate unlatching. "Close your eyes."

Obediently, Steve closed his eyes tight. He heard the squeak of hinges as the faceplate was lifted, and felt the table shift when Iron Man leaned over it. Cold metal brushed his cheek, and then soft lips pressed against his. Some sort of facial hair scratched him lightly, and there was a small shock of static that tasted like metal under his tongue.

The kiss lasted only a few moments before Iron Man pulled away. Steve waited for the sound of the faceplate closing before he opened his eyes. "Thank you."

Iron Man was back in his seat, toying with a screwdriver. "You'll really wait until I tell you my name?"

Steve nodded, and reached out to take Iron Man's hand again. It wasn't much, but it would do. "Yeah. I will."


End file.
